Good Intentions
by Quenna
Summary: Artemis Fowl at 7-years-old: smarter than his teachers, about to finish school, inventor ... young, nieve, impressionable, innocent ... and as open to emotional injury as any other child.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All characters, ideas and situations which are taken from the books 'Artemis Fowl' and 'Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incidence' belong to Eoin Colfer and his publishers. No infringement is intended and no money is being made from this work.

Note: This is an eventual AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Things happen in this fic which could not have possibly happened before the events in AF and TAI. This is a childhood fic and so it deals with the relationships between the human characters, the development of characters, their choices and 'destinies'. 

======================================================

__

Wer mit Ungeheurn ka mpt, mag zusehn, dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird. Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst, blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein.

"Whoever struggles with monsters might watch that he does not thereby become a monster. When you stare into an abyss for a long time, the abyss also stares into you."

****

- Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

======================================================

PROLOGUE

__

We can never know the consequences of our actions.

We can never anticipate what road to take when there are no maps drawn.

In life, there are never any maps, only guidelines that our parents wish that we would follow and know that we will not.

Big things happen because of small things, decisions that we had thought were nothing more than the choice to have peanut butter on our sandwich can change the world to be unrecognisable.

We don't know what these things might be, what things will occur from that decision, what the consequences will be, at the time when we make these decisions. We can't even know what might have happened if we had taken that other road, if we had asked for cheese instead.

But sometimes one person gets the chance to know the consequences, if only in their heart, and so they can make the right decision. Or as right a decision as anyone can ever make.

~ * ~

****

The possible future

Miss Hannah Higgins busied herself with organising her ornamental china. Those annoying school students had been around today to 'help an elderly member of the community' and put everything out of place and caused her more pain than help since she now had to put everything back. And it wasn't as if Hannah was really _helplessly_ old – she had only retired from teaching at the local primary school last year. People just never appreciate privacy and independence these days. Admittedly, she had agreed to taking the helpers, and she wasn't going to admit how hopeless they were. Children had to do some community service and maybe even that small duty would inspire them to be better people. 

Not better home-helpers certainly, but maybe better people.

She gave the last Lladró a smooth wipe and placed it back on its stand. And only then did she move to her comfortable armchair, switching on the television to watch the news.

On the screen a violent fire-fight was being shown. The camera was jolting back and forth as if the cameraman was running. He was. Backwards. Away from the scene before him. A police swat team was the center of attention but the majority of firepower was coming out of the besieged building, not going in. Police officers were falling in slow motion, shot. Others were dropping to the rubble-covered ground and rolling to get into a better position. A huge figure appeared behind a cloud of dust from a blown-in wall and was almost instantly mowed down. But he got a few shots of a machine gun off first and when he fell the trigger was jammed and went on shooting through the wall back out towards the police.

Just as Hannah was panicking about the recognition of the man, whose name was on the very tip of her tongue, the scene cut to a comparatively sedate one of the building in ruins, dust clouds settled and yellow police-lines erected. A reporter who had had too many face-lifts standing before it.

"This is the only remains of the shoot-out that occurred earlier today at the headquarters of the infamous Fowl cartel. The group were meeting with only minimal security and, through an informant, police were able to capture a few prominent members of the group including Artemis Fowl the younger."

The scene flashed to a young man with an expensive jacket half-falling off his head as he was lead handcuffed to a lock-up van. He looked as if he should be worrying about spots and dating instead of being arrested at such a devastated scene. 

Hannah Higgins felt her stomach leave her and her bones leak out through her backside into the chair. Artemis Fowl… Ten years ago he had been a handsome child with an adorable inability to know when to be quiet or when to stop being so smart or even why others could never understand the things which he could easily comprehend. And now…

She saw the face of her old student looking out the TV and into her eyes. Mocking her efforts to keep him safe from himself and his father. Artemis Fowl could never be controlled, even with the best of intentions and all the prayers in the world.

She turned off the box when the presenter's face came back on and eased herself out the armchair which was now more like her own prison cell. She walked slowly out to the kitchen and only once she got there did she realise that there were tears in her eyes.

Artemis Fowl the Second could never be controlled. And it was a sad day indeed when he could be.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: All characters, ideas and situations which are taken from the books 'Artemis Fowl' and 'Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incidence' belong to Eoin Colfer and his publishers. No infringement is intended and no money is being made from this work.

Note: This is an eventual AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Things happen in this fic which could not have possibly happened before the events in AF and TAI. This is a childhood fic and so it deals with the relationships between the human characters, the development of characters, their choices and 'destinies'. 

======================================================

CHAPTER ONE 

If you were to look up into the sky at this moment the shifting dark clouds and an ominous presence to the west would be more than enough to make a school bus driver give instructions to hurry home and for even the most enthusiastic athlete to head to the indoor gym.  In the air the deep musk of an approaching storm swiveled and turned, speeding their own warnings through open windows and doors.  And even if you weren't looking at the sky or smelling the air you would know that a storm was coming from messages on radio and news-bulletins. 

And if you were to look up while standing slightly to the side of a wing of Fowl Manor so that you had a good view of the roofline you, if of the sensible adult persuasion, would gasp, cover your mouth with a hand then instantly go running to the rescue of the thoughtless young boy who was climbing atop the building in such bad and fearful weather, yelling unheeded warnings all the way.

Luckily for 7-year-old Artemis Fowl the Second, there were no sensible adults standing with a view to the roof since he had sent Butler back inside to fetch some insulated zinc wire and his mother had visitors over and so wasn't likely to leave the parlour.  And his father hadn't even been home in 4 days - but since 'adults' didn't tell Artemis things even if he most definitely could understand them he couldn't possibly know why.  Even though he had put some make-shift bugs in his parents room he still didn't quite know, as they had failed quite quickly and he hadn't had time to make any new ones or fix the old.  

He was straddled across the ridge of the roof, a large, apparently ceramic, bowl in his lap with a number of strange gadgets and extensions coming off it.  On his face was the look of concentration that you might see on a usual 7-year-old's face while they tried to cut something out in a straight line or while they were colouring a picture.  But instead of a picture of bugs bunny in front of him there was a pile of amateur physics and mechanics embodied in household objects, trying to imitate a satellite.  With fingers still chubby from youth he pulled yet another thin wire into place and wound it down underneath the edge of a roofing-tile to keep it steady.  He mounted the whole thing on a brace and carefully lodged it in place on the peak, facing towards the coming storm.

The first drops of rain fell onto Artemis' head but he simply brushed them and his too long hair out of his eyes, squinting at the tiny mechanics in one corner of the dish.  He tweaked something with a small tool and then, seemingly pleased with his work, shuffled backwards along the ridge until he came back to the place where he had climbed up.  He slowly slid down on his front until he was standing on his tiptoes in the gutter, bent to grasp a thin string and shuffled over slightly to the corner where his wing joined the main one.  He was hooking a leg around a sturdy iron-lacework when the call came from below.

"_Artemis_!  Come on dearest, come on Arty, come back down to Mother - it could be dangerous up there."  Artemis scowled at the obvious statement and continued down his path without acknowledging his mother below.

"Why don't you wait there and I'll get Butler to help you down.  I really don't want you trying to get down without a grown-up's help.  I thought you were smart enough to not do something so silly as to climb up on the roof."

Artemis scowled again at what his mother was implying.  "It was necessary.  And I'm not going to fall - I know what I'm doing, Mother."

"You can never be too careful.  And you can't know what could happen up there.  A tile could slip or you could over balance or--"

"Mother," his voice was clearly exasperated, "it's all physics.  Nothing would happen."

Angeline's voice was becoming even more flustered.  "Well... just get down here quickly Arty.  I don't like you doing such a silly thing."

Artemis had climbed down the latticework, crossed a large window ledge and shimmied down the side of a shutter to almost reach the floor.  Then he easily jumped the rest of the way and walked back over to his mother, smoothing his clothes as he went.  "You should have stayed inside, Mother, your hair has gotten all wet."

"Why thank you for your concern Artemis but it's much more important that you don't do something as silly as that again.  You won't, will you?  Promise me, Artemis."

"I promise I will never knowingly do anything which is asinine, impractical or a discredit to my intelligence.  Is that good enough?"

"Well… okay then.  Will you give me a hug since we are already soaking wet?"

Artemis obligingly wrapped his small arms around her slim waist and put his head on her chest.  She returned it gently.

"How about we go back inside before we catch a cold?  And I've got to have a talk with Butler about leaving you alone out here."  And she moved towards the door.

"I asked him to go and fetch some more wire for me.  I thought I needed it to make some of the last connections but I managed to make do without.  I just made a satellite dish which should hopefully be able to piggyback a signal from a big satellite and amplify itself using the network which is already in space.  And then I'll be able to use the weather satellites and I'll be able to see when storms are coming."

"You could have just looked out the window to see this storm coming."

"But it would still be really useful if we were--"

"How about you go and play in your room?"

Artemis froze and glared at his mother in a true Fowl fashion.  

"Sorry.  How about you go and do some work in your room?"

"Much better, Mother."  And he went off towards his room on the second floor of the manor.

Angeline Fowl stood there for a moment shaking her head about the pains of having a genius for a son before moving to rejoin her friends in the parlour.

~ * ~

Artemis was the only person to see his father drive up through the pelting rain to park before the front door.  He had been looking out the window in his bedroom and as soon as he saw the dark bonnet of the Mercedes he dashed down the stairs, detouring to the library to pick up a book that he had been wanting to show his father.

If he hadn't taken that detour, if he had arrived at the door before it was even opened his life might have turned out very differently.  But it did happen that way.  All that can change now is the future.

~ * ~

When Artemis reached the top of the grand staircase leading down to the entrance hall he stopped.  His father was already inside, his mother standing in front of him, partially blocking the view of his father.  And they weren't talking.  A conversation that includes glares of such intensity and voices lowered so ominously wasn't simply talking.

"You insist on doing this on every occasion, Angeline.  What do you get from it?  You know that I won't tell you, and most of the time there _isn't_ anything to tell you.  And if there is, I _can't_ tell you."

"Don't make this about me.  This is about you.  How selfish and conceited and _evil_ you are.  Do you know what you're doing?  Do you know what all of this comes under the classification of?  Crime.  And you _do_ know what all this is, you brag about that little fact.  _But why do you have to do it?_"  Angeline half-sobbed.  "Can't you just… Think about me.  About little Arty."

"Yes, about Artemis.  I got another call from his assorted teachers and tutors.  They want him to do the Leaving Certificate this year.  We know he can do it.  And if we try and keep him at anything which might be considered a 'normal' level he's going to go insane.  We know what he's capable of, and if he doesn't get pushed by doing Sixth Year, this year…  He needs to be doing this.  We – you – can't force him to stay behind."

"How can we let him do that level of schooling when he's only 7?  That's just… It's wrong, Timmy!"

"He's a genius, Angeline, even if you would rather he wasn't."  

Artemis felt a slight tinge of guilt about listening into such a conversation, but it was the only way he ever got information.  He felt a larger pull at his insides at his father's words and his mother's response.

"Of course I'd rather he wasn't!  Intelligence is one thing, but putting together who-knows-what out of old parts at the age of 7 is something that happens in the movies.  I can't cope with all the things he does."  Her voice lowered, "I can't keep up with him.  He says things, asks things, and I've never even thought about them.  How can I keep up with that?  And it's not as if you know what I'm talking about.  It's been three days since you've been here last."

"Four days."  Artemis Senior corrected softly, regretfully.  "And I do know what you're talking about…  But you have to realise that Artemis isn't your little boy to protect from the world."  Angeline opened her mouth with a snide comment but Timmy gave her a look and she fell silent.  "He's too mature, too advanced for that."

"He's only young underneath all that book-knowledge."

"Maybe.  But…  I can't see it.  He's not a child and for that I'm scared for him."

"He _is_ a child.  Remember when he was interviewed for one of those news stations?  The reporter asked him what he wanted to do and he replied 'To be on the first mission to mars; to be an astrophysicist; and to maybe do archeology or Egyptology.  But maybe that's just because you get to play around in dirt.'  Remember?  He is a boy, just hiding underneath all that intelligence."

"Then why can't we hold him back from doing the Leaving Certificate for a year or so?  He's not mature enough to be leaving school at 8."

"Yes he is.  You've seen him around people, children.  He can relate to anyone _but_ other children.  And if friendships with adults don't work out it's because they can't understand or accept him as being smarter than they are.  He's never going to have proper friends - it's not possible for him to - but maybe if we let him go as far as he can academically, as fast as he can, he can find a peer group."

"How can you be so analytical and logical about all this?  This isn't some business trend that you have to analyse - it's our son."

"It's the best thing for him.  It wouldn't be right to hold him back, not right to him."

"Yes, maybe you're right.  But he can't physically go to University until he's 10, okay?"

"I'll agree with that for now, Angel."

"Good."  Angeline linked her arm though her husbands and led him towards the sitting room and out of Artemis' range of hearing.  "Timmy dear?"

Artemis senior recognized his wife's flirtations and the undercurrent and so just nodded with a mumbled 'hmm'.

"Tell me what you were doing?"

"No."

"But please, Timmy."

"You don't need to know.  It wouldn't do you any good knowing what I was doing."

"I need to know.  I can't not think about it anymore.  Why didn't you come back home for 4 days?  Why can't I get you on the phone even when your secretary says that you're in?  Why won't you tell me?  I know… some of it I know.  I know that what you do isn't always legal but all this recently is making me scared, Timmy.  What is it?  Please, tell me.  Please."

"I… I can't, Angeline."

"As if you can't!  It's not as if there's anyone above you to force your silence!  Tell me."

"I can't.  I swear that I can't.  If I did… It would be too dangerous for you if you knew any more than you do."

"But I don't know anything."

"Exactly!"            

"Is it really that bad, Timmy?"

Artemis Senior nodded, looking down at the floor.

"Please, I won't tell anyone that I know anything.  You need to tell me about it – if only to get it all off your chest.  I'll be your sounding board and maybe you can figure out how to get out of whatever situation this is."

"They assume that you know things anyway.  It's safer if you don't know anything."

"Who's 'they', Artemis?"

"The London-based gang led by Robert Schwartz."

Angeline didn't say anything.

"They've got me cornered, Angel.  I can't do anything."

"Yes you can.  You could stop all this.  Give in to them.  Refuse to do anything … illegal."

"I can't."

"You could.  You _could_!"

 "How could I?  I wouldn't be able to even if I really wanted to!  You can't get out of it.  Especially if you're someone like me."

"You have to.  I can't stand this life where you're never here anymore.  Where the gangwars are more important to you than your family."  Angeline took a deep breath to get her nerves under more control.  "Either give it up or give me up." 

"Angeline… Dearest…"

"Don't do that to me, Timmy.  I'm not going to listen to it anymore."

And Angeline's skirts swished with the sound of finality as she left the room.

Artemis Senior's gaze dropped to his lap.  His eyes were misted with unshed tears.

~ * ~

Angeline stalked through the house on auto-pilot – not really noticing were she was going and trying so hard to not think about what she was doing.  All her energy was focused on staying angry, with not loosing her resolve to prove to her husband that she is serious about her ultimatum.  If she thought about what she was doing she would loose all power to do it.

In her son's room only Butler was there.  "Where's Arty?"

"Downstairs talking to Mister Fowl, Ma'am.  He saw him come in."

"He wasn't with Timmy when I left.  Well… get a bag packed for him, will you?"

"Where are you going?"

"I… I don't know.  Maybe to Jennifer's house for a while, or maybe Sandra's home.  I… I just need to get out of here."

"Why don't you come to the Lodge instead?  My mother's there right now, I'm sure you remember her."

"Bonnie's a good woman.  Thank you, Butler."

"It's the least I can do.  How about you go and find Arty and I'll get some things ready for you to take with you."

"Thank you."

Butler stared at the closed door, willing it to open and a smiling Angeline to be behind it, joking about how badly she'd overreacted.  But it wasn't going to happen.  This was something that Angeline felt she needed to do.

Butler pulled a carpetbag off a high shelf and began packing. 


End file.
